


Take Me Down to the River

by orangeCrates



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Malik?"</p>
<p>Malik didn't stop, only turning around when he was ankle deep in the water.</p>
<p>"If the problem is only the absence of fond memories, then you only need to make new ones."</p>
<p>Altair slowly stood up and, after hesitating a moment, followed Malik's example, shedding his clothes until he was bare from the waist up, acutely aware of the way Malik stared.</p>
<p>When Altair stepped forward, Malik stepped back, further into the water, stopping only when he was knee deep in the water. When Altair hesitated at the water's edge, Malik only held his hand out, palm towards the sky with a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alternatively: Altair's issue with water stems from the bad memories associated with it. Malik decides to help him make new, happier memories.</p>
<p>A kink meme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Down to the River

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was for Altair being afraid of water because of past trauma and Malik helps him get over it. Original prompt and unbeta'd fill can be found [here](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1611.html?thread=7577675).
> 
> Also I was playing around a bit with story form in this one. Hope it isn't too weird.

They are not men generally given to softness. They are men who have spent years honing their edge to a deadly sharpness in preparation for a life of blood and death. It bleeds into everything they do and say and see.

But neither Altair nor Malik are so foolish to think that that is all there is to them.

Because somethings cannot be washed away even with blood.

Nevertheless, they are almost always caught off-guard in the moments of softness.

Malik is never more out of his depth than when Altair makes love to him, gentle and slow, deliberately unhurried.

Just like how Altair flounders in the face of Malik's smile now, without its usual sarcastic edge while he stands knee deep in water. He holds his hand out, palm facing the sky and Altair reaches back knowing that, this time at least, he will not be grabbed and pulled in suddenly as Malik laughs at his ungraceful stumble...not when he was smiling like that. And it makes Altair unsure as much as it makes him anticipate what is to come, if not that.

 

It began with a question while they were still sitting in the lazy afternoon sun with Malik's head resting on Altair's lap.

"Why are you afraid of the water?"

And Altair had scoffed, the warm making him languid, but not able to take the edge out of either of them, completely.

"I am not afraid of it."

Malik had rolled his eyes, "Of course. Forgive me for assuming." The sarcastic bite in his voice made the corner of Altiar's mouth quirk up in a smirk. "So tell me," Malik continued as he brought a hand up, trailing his fingers along Altair's cheek. "Why this _aversion_ to water?"

In the past, Malik would not have cared enough to ask. In that same past, Altair would not have cared enough to answer. But that was a long time ago, when they were both different people.

"When I was young, I nearly drowned." He carded his fingers through Malik''s hair (and was secretly thrilled at the way he leaned into the touch), "My leg seized up when I was in deeper waters and then I sunk. I had thought I was going to die."

"But you learnt how to swim with the rest of us." And while it was true that Altair had always been more uncomfortable around water than the rest of them (and now he knew the reason) it seemed to have gotten worse over the years not better.

There was a moment of silence after that, during which Malik's arm fell back across his stomach and Altair continued to run his fingers through his hair.

"After Adha died," Altair began and his voice was almost impossibly loud in the quiet afternoon air, "I dreamt of water. These dreams always began the same way: I would jump overboard as I did in the past, but instead of swimming for shore, I would be chasing the ship she was on. But I could never catch up." He trailed off, then he turned his head from where it was staring into the distance when Malik touched his forearm lightly.

Altair looked down then, offering him a wan smile.

"The dreams always ended one of two ways. Either something would drag me under the water and the fear of drowning wakes me up, or I keep swimming until I hear her scream."

"Either way, I am never able to save her."

And, because Malik understood the futility of words in the face of such grief, his hand trailed lower to squeeze Altair's hand instead, waiting for the gesture to be returned before letting god and sitting up.

To Altair's confusion, he hooked two fingers under the black Dai robe and pulled it off in a smooth, practised movement. He divested himself of the rest of his clothing in short order and he hadn't missed the way Altair's eyes lingered on his fingers as he efficiently worked at the ties.

When he was done, he stepped out of his boots and headed towards the water in nothing but his breeches.

"Malik?"

Malik didn't stop, only turning around when he was ankle deep in the water.

"If the problem is only the absence of fond memories, then you only need to make new ones."

Altair slowly stood up and, after hesitating a moment, followed Malik's example, shedding his clothes until he was bare from the waist up, acutely aware of the way Malik stared.

When Altair stepped forward, Malik stepped back, further into the water, stopping only when he was knee deep in the water. When Altair hesitated, Malik only held his hand out, palm towards the sky with a smile.

 

And Altair steps the rest of the way into the water, so he can lay his hand over Malik's.

Malik's fingers curl and Altair's follow suit to fit their curve. It is not a strong grip, but when Malik tugs gently, Altair lets himself be drawn in until they are standing barely a hand's span apart.

Altair realizes, when Malik has to lean up to kiss him that they are not standing on even ground. The difference is only great enough to be noticeable and the angle is strange and different and new (but not unpleasant).

The skin on Malik's shoulders are warm to the touch from the sun, but not as warm as the tongue licking its way into his mouth. Altair isn't sure if he had pulled Malik up, if he had been pulled down or if they had met somewhere in the middle. It doesn't really matter. All that matters is the way they are now pressed, chest to chest, flush against each other as they kiss.

When they break apart, Malik's mouth is red and wet and Altair makes a quiet, strangled sound and leans back in...

...only for a hand on his chest to hold him back as Malik chuckles and moves backwards.

The loss of Malik's body heat makes Altair suddenly very aware of the chill of the water slowly soaking into his breeches and the brief clench in his chest the sensation and Malik moving away brings.

He barely has time to consider it before it is not only his feet but his chest and face as well when Malik kicks a spray of water at him.

Altair drags a hand over his eyes the flicks the water off. Oh, and Malik is just standing there, looking entirely too pleased with himself,the softness of earlier now mixed with no small amount of mischief. He stares at the sight for a moment before he growls and tackles Malik into the water.

They wrestle and splash around like children they haven't been in years. At some point, someone must have swallowed lake water or ended up with some of it up his nose. But both of them are still grinning when Altair has Malik pinned beneath him, sitting between his thighs but with both hands planted on the dirt under the water caging him in with his arms.

"Yield."

His demand is met with Malik laughing in his face before he sits up, capturing his mouth in a kiss.

It is slightly more chilled than their last one due to the water, yet just as heated all the same. Altair's hands leave the ground and closes around him and Malik realizes too late that it isn't an embrace, but Altair cupping his hands together behind his back so he can dump water over Malik's head when he pulls back from the kiss.

Malik brushes the water away slowly before opening his eyes and frowning at Altair (but his eyes are bright still and even this expression Altair finds endearing). 

Altair leans down, places a kiss on Malik's jaw in what might have been an apology if he weren't chuckling in a decidedly unapologetic way.

Malik reaches up and tugs at his hair for that, but tilts his head back and to the side all the same, and breathes in sharply when Altair licks at a trail of water running down his neck. His hands trail over Malik's side, over the slick, wet skin before dipping under the surface of the water. His fingers feel slow and heavy-but-weightless as they continue to drag over Malik's skin. He wonders, idly, if it feels different to be touched under water as he he bends to bit lightly at Malik's chest and listens (feels, tastes) to the quick staccato rhythm of his heartbeat. Altair's fingers dip below his waist band and the sudden clench of Malik's muscles is the only warning he gets before they're flipped around so Malik is straddling him.

Malik makes sure to keep a firm hand on the back of Altair's neck, keeping Altair pressed to his skin and out of the water. Then Malik lets go and sits back far enough so he could quirk a brow at him.

"I hope you didn't think I wouldn't have retribution for what you did." He remarks dryly.

And Altair chuckles as his hands settle on Malik's hips under the water, "And how would you have your revenge?" He asks as his thumbs draw lazy circles on Malik's skin.

"Oh, I have a few ideas." And he shifts back and rolls his hips down in a way that makes Altair hiss and buck, the movements accompanied by the wet sound of water being unsettled.

He hums with a smirk, "One of them involves just leaving you here."

Altair's hands tighten where they rest over Malik's hips and he sits up a little higher.

"...I thought the purpose of this was to create good memories."

"It would give that head of yours something to dream about."

And Altair _does_ dream of water that night. He dreams of his name, falling from Malik's lips accompanied by the sound of water moving in time with their bodies. He dreams of the chill of the water in contrast with the heat of Malik's skin, the heat of his hands and mouth and body smothering his.

And when, in the dream, the waters rise as they find completion in each other, Altair is unafraid and unbothered.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm trying very hard not to make a wet dream joke.


End file.
